


Rude Awakening

by doomonid



Category: Paradise Series - Ted Dekker
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 07:04:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9709712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doomonid/pseuds/doomonid
Summary: Billy Rediger's life is a mess, but it somehow did not occur to him that this would be obvious to other people. Mild spoilers for Sinner.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this like a year and a half ago because I have feelings about these characters and there's no real fandom to speak of. Also, what happened to Samuel, Ted? Don't leave us hanging! 
> 
> At some point I might write more stuff like this, who knows.

Billy Rediger stirred from another fitful night of sleep, disentangling himself from the blankets and sitting up. He blinked a few times and pushed his disheveled bangs back from his forehead. Slowly he regained awareness as the chill of the room chased the disturbing images back into the shadowy corners of his mind where they couldn't bother him. He sighed heavily as he glanced at the clock and mentally calculated how many dang energy drinks he'd have to consume to pretend to be functional in the morning.

  


Just as he started to relax into the mattress again, a noise beyond the door caught his attention. With a shiver he froze, straining to listen for anything else. A cabinet closed gently in the kitchen and he jumped. Taking a moment to collect himself, he tiptoed to the door and cracked it open, glancing around to find the hall empty and proceeding as quietly as possible. He saw light pouring from the kitchen and bit back a groan-- he wasn't hearing things. He took a deep breath before striding confidently out of the hall.

  


Billy sputtered, recoiling despite his best efforts at the sight of Samuel Abraham sitting with half-lidded eyes and his legs dangling a foot above the ground, two steaming mugs of hot chocolate placed on the table in front of him. The boy regarded him with a gentle smile, the familiarity of it making him shudder.

  


"Samuel?"

  


"Sit down, Billy," Samuel said, his diction eerily reminiscent of his father's. Billy didn't budge, staring daggers at Samuel. He replaced his dumbfounded tone for a more biting one.

  


"Jiminy cricket, Samuel, you can't just barge into my house at this time of night! How did you even get in here?"

  


"Never mind that," Samuel said quietly. "You've seen bigger miracles without batting an eye. Written them, even. C'mon, your cocoa's getting cold." He took a sip from his own mug.

  


Billy sunk into the chair across from Samuel in resignation. He forced a grimace at the admittedly appetizing beverage in front of him, inwardly marveling at the fact that he even had the milk or clean dishes necessary to make it. If Samuel had actually washed dishes and bought milk for this purpose... Well, for one thing, that was quite a lot to sleep through. And why would Samuel even bother? He'd rather not think about that. There were clearly more pressing matters at hand.

  


"I don't appreciate you pillaging my cabinets," Billy muttered. "And even you have to admit we're too old for this."

  


"Are we?" Samuel set his cup back on the table, leaning back and folding his hands. "One could argue we've been too old for this for at least a decade; I think we can make some allowances now and then."

  


"Whatever," Billy groaned, slumping in his chair and running a hand over his face in exasperation. "What do you want, Samuel?"

  


"I wanted to see how you were doing. I've heard about what you've been caught up in lately and I was afraid you might not be coping especially well," Samuel began tentatively. He glanced over Billy's haggard features. "I'm inclined to say my suspicions weren't far off." Billy fidgeted.

  


"That's none of your business. Go home."

  


"I wish we could go home," Samuel said, wistful tone softened by a delicate smile.

  


"Look, I don't know what you're doing with your life these days, but I have a very important job and I can't afford to waste time kicking around your tired old philosophies."

  


"That's not why I'm here," Samuel said.

  


"Then spit it out," Billy grumbled. "Did David put you up to this?" Actually, probably not. David Abraham's annoying intrusive qualities likely ran in the family. Samuel looked up.

  


"I'm just worried about you," he said softly, searching for Billy's eyes.

  


He was practically daring him to be brave enough to test his skepticism. He didn't have to invade his thoughts to know that Samuel had to be telling the truth, but the challenge made him curious. What would he find? The same as always, probably _. I love you, Billy. Please, don't run._ He shivered.

  


"I've got things under control," he muttered, finally heeding the beckoning steam from the mug. He steeled his nerves to keep the nostalgia and comfort from showing on his face, glancing over to Samuel's tiny frame perched in the middle of his grimy kitchen. That was enough to make him squirm again.

  


“I guess you really aren’t willing to talk,” Samuel said through a sigh.

  


“Nope,” Billy snapped.

  


A few minutes passed in silence as they drained their drinks as quietly as possible. Billy abruptly stood to rinse his mug in the sink. He dumped half of the cocoa down the drain and pretended he didn’t regret it.

  


“You should _leave_ ,” he said, forceful despite the edge of exhaustion in his voice.

  


“Alright,” Samuel muttered, the decidedly un-childlike weariness that so often colored his tone creeping through once again. He stood and stretched. “Just remember you don’t have to put up with this. If you gave your mind what it really needed maybe it would stop bothering you so much.” Billy groaned.

“Goodnight, Samuel,” he said insistently, turning his back on the boy and trudging back to his bedroom. Samuel sighed, hesitating by the front door.  


 

“Goodnight, Billy,” he whispered, finally leaving with heavy steps.


End file.
